It's cold outside ( very short relatable poem )

It's cold outside,

and now I regret,

Not having enough long pants,

To keep warm and in good health.

I am the summer cricket,

Who saw the ants work,

Slept through it all,

And is now freezing up without the sun.

It's cold outside,

I wake early in the morning,

Then spend another hour,

In bed, hiding.

Hiding from the cold,

That leaves my feet dead,

and my hands cold enough,

That I can't even touch myself.

It's cold outside,

I get started with the day,

Within half an hour,

I am within the sheets again.

Trying to talk my blood,

Into flowing to the edges of my flesh,

To bring back the summer fire,

To protect me from this cold spell.

It's cold outside,

I am hiding in my bed,

Lying there,

waiting for courage to come and lead me hence.

My mind wanders through thoughts,

daydreams flickering in and out,

I could use some eggs right now,

I think to myself.

It's cold outside,

but the thought of food,

reminds me of my emptying pockets,

and that good things cost money.

I jump out of bed without further ado,

And I get back to my tasks for the day,

It doesn't feel that cold anymore,

The body knows, we need that loot.